Give Me a Word, I'll Give You a Story
by theatrelove123
Summary: The title says it all! You give me a word, any word at all, and I'll write a harvest moon oneshot centered around that word. Yes, this is one of those request story things :D. Oneshot #3 is the word 'Green', and it's Jill and Skye centric.
1. An Introduction

Hello readers! Thank you for checking out "Give me a Word, I'll Give you a Story". This is sort of a preliminary chapter where I get to explain to you all my plans for this collection of oneshots. I'll try to be brief, I promise x).

So, I came up with this idea in the shower. I was thinking about how much I love words, and how words often serve as inspiration for my stories. Someone says a word, just one word, and BOOM! I have a story idea in my head. I then started thinking about collections of oneshots I've seen on here, where people take requests and write oneshots based on those requests. I then combined the two thoughts (words and oneshot collections) and thought, hey! **Maybe I could do a collection of oneshots where I write each chapter based on words given to me by reviewers!**

That in bold is the basic premise of "Give me a Word, I'll Give you a Story". You, faithful fanfictioners, are going to 'request' for oneshots by giving me a word, one singular word. I'll then take that word, and write a story that's centered around that word in some way.

The words you give can be absolutely anything (which is the fun part :D). You can give me random nouns (ex. lamp, bookcase, pumpkin, dog...), verbs (ex. running, swimming, laughing, crying...), adjectives (ex. happy, irritable, monotonous, odd...), abstract ideas (ex. serenity, jealousy, euphoria, love...), and pretty much anything else under the sun. **Please, challenge me! Give me words, and see what I can do with them!**

Here's an example of how a request might go:

Reviewer number 1: Here's a word! Kite.

Then I'll take the word kite, and brainstorm an idea about it, eventually resulting in a oneshot chapter based on the word kite.

A summary might go something like this: "As kids, Luke and Bo would often go out on windy days to fly kites together. However, these two apprentices have grown apart over the years. Those kite flying days seem distant to Luke now, but he can't help taking a moment to sit back and reminisce about how things once were."

Just like that, the word 'kite' turns into a story about Luke and Bo's fluctuating friendship over the years.

Of course, if you've only played certain harvest moon **games**, or want a story to be written about one or two **characters** in particular, or even want a particular **genre** for your story, you can add specifications to your request.

Examples:

Reviewer 1: I want a story centered around the word "cake", and it should be about characters from Island of Happiness.

Reviewer 2: I want a story about the word "skill", and it should be featuring Angela and Chase.

Reviewer 3: I want a story with the word "turtle", and it should be a romantic humor story about Claire and Cliff.

Any of these would be acceptable! The only thing that I won't take is someone telling me how to write my story. (i.e "I want a story with the word marshmellow, and Claire and Grey should be on a camping trip, and a bear should come, and they should kiss.")  
>No. I won't do that. The whole point of this from my end is to exercise my creative abilities by working off of a word in order to write an original oneshot of my own design.<p>

I think that these oneshots will be a great way for me to keep up my writing during the school year! (although I'll try my best not to neglect my other stories!). **To summarize this whole big thing; you send in a word, I write about it**. It should be quite interesting :D!

**So please, start sending in requests! I can't promise that I'll take all requests, but I'll certainly do my best. It'll be your requests that drive this story, and I'll start writing as soon as you start giving me words. I hope that this can become something really great! Thanks for reading :).**


	2. Riceball

_Riceball_

"Vaughn! Hey, hey Vaughn!" a cheery voice called. Vaughn grumbled quietly as he pulled his black Stetson over his face.

_Maybe if she can't see my face, she won't recognize me and she'll move along…_he thought. But there was no such luck; the girl with the red bandana noticed him almost as soon as she walked into Luke's diner.

"Oh, there you are!" she chirruped. "I was afraid I'd missed you." Without a second's thought she sat down next to him.

"How did you find me?" Vaughn asked her, making no attempts to hide his irritability from the young farmer.

Chelsea shrugged. "You're always here around this time." She said. Vaughn raised an eyebrow in response.

"So you've been stalking me, then?" he asked. Vaughn got the reaction he was hoping for; as soon as he suggested that she might be stalking him, Chelsea began to blush deep red.

"N-no! Of course not! It's just that…I…um…"Vaughn could've laughed. It was so amusing, watching Chelsea trying to find her words; there was almost something cute about the way she blushed and stuttered as she tried to think of a reply.

"A-anyway," she continued once she'd finally collected herself. "I've got something to give to you." To this, Vaughn groaned. Chelsea _always _had something to give to him. Apparently, she thought that, by giving him something different every day, she would eventually find something that would make him smile.

_Heh, like that's ever going to happen, _the cowboy thought. Smiling did not come naturally to Vaughn. He wasn't entirely sure why. His cousin Julia had been trying to get him to smile for years, but he'd never given in. There was no way that he would ever give into Chelsea, no matter how persistent she was. He figured that eventually she'd just grow bored with the whole thing and move on to pestering someone else.

"What is it this time?" Vaughn asked in a skeptical monotone. The gifts that Chelsea gave him each day had started out pretty normal; flowers, candies and the like. But, recently, they'd gotten pretty odd. Yesterday, it had been a model train. The day before it was a stuffed animal cow, and the day before that it was some sort of voodoo doll. _A voodoo doll for crying out loud!_

But what Chelsea held in her hands today wasn't a model train, a stuffed cow, or a voodoo doll. In fact, it resembled nothing that she'd ever given him previously.

"It's a…riceball?" Vaughn asked, slightly uncertain. The white, lumpy thing before him _did_ kind of look like a riceball, albeit a poorly made one.

Chelsea's face brightened and she nodded her head vigorously. "Yup! You've got it; it's a riceball! I made it just for you. " _That must be why it looks so mishapen…_

Vaughn looked at the riceball in the farmer's hands for a moment, pretended to consider it, and then pushed her hands away.

"…I can't accept this." He told her in his usual straight to the point fashion. Vaughn was never one to beat around the bush, and he wasn't going to waste his time with polite pleasantries just because this girl was trying to get him to smile.

Chelsea's face fell, and Vaughn almost felt bad for his dismissal of her gift. Almost. "You can't accept it? But why?" she asked.

"I've already eaten." He answered bluntly.

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" Chelsea yelled, earning a few glares from their fellow restaurant dwellers. Vaughn rolled his eyes.

"I'm at a restaurant, and it's past lunch time." He explained. Chelsea didn't respond, but rather stared at him stupidly.

"_I just ate_." He said after a few moments of Chelsea staring at him and showing little signs of understanding.

"Ohhhhh!" Chelsea said, finally catching on. Vaughn narrowed his eyes at her; his patience with the peppy farm girl was beginning to wear thin.

"Look, Chelsea, I'll save you some time." He said. "I'm not going to smile today. I don't want your rice ball. So why don't you just run along and do whatever it is that Chelseas do in their spare time, because I'm not interested."

"What? No! Vaughn, you're crazy if you think I'll leave before I see you eat my riceball. Today is the day that I'll see you smile!" she said, grinning broadly with renewed confidence.

"No." he told her, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. "I've just eaten, so I'm not going to take your riceball, so there's no point in pressing me today. Can't you give it a rest?"

"Can't _you_ just eat the riceball? " Chelsea countered.

Vaughn sighed. Today wasn't going to be easy. "What if I don't like riceballs?" he asked.

"How can you not like a riceball? Just look at it! It's so cute!"

"Cute? How are those things in any way _cute_?" he asked. Chelsea's messed up logic never failed to confound him. _Riceballs…cute?_

Chelsea shook her head, as if she were chiding him for his lack of understanding. "Oh, Vaughn, can't you see? It's small, white, fluffy…all qualities of something adorable!"

"You make it sound like it's a kitten…" Vaughn mumbled. Fortunately, Chelsea didn't hear him, and therefore had no rebuke.

"Please, Vaughn?" she asked, putting on her infamous puppy dog eyes. "It isn't that filling, it'll just be a quick snack." Her big blue eyes looked into his violet ones pleadingly.

"…So you cooked it yourself?" Vaughn asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yes!"

"And you tried your best on it?" he continued.

"Of course!"

"And you _really_ want me to eat it?"

"Yes, yes!" Chelsea smiled, rejoicing in the fact that she may have finally gotten through to the stubborn cowboy.

"Well in that case…no." Vaughn told her. "Now go away, and leave me to the rest of my day."

"Ugh, Vaughn, you're terrible!" she shouted. "Why won't you just eat my riceball?" At this point, tears were beginning to form in Chelsea's eyes. That was something that had never happened before. Usually, when Vaughn insulted her gifts, she gave them to him regardless and then skipped off happily. This time, for some reason, was different.

_Maybe it's because she made it herself, especially for you? _A little voice chided within Vaughn's head. _Great, _he thought, _now I feel like a bad person._

"Stop crying, Chelsea." He ordered.

"What?" Chelsea sniffed.

"I don't like seeing you cry." He said. The farmer looked at him disbelievingly for a moment before nodding and wiping the tears out of her eyes.

"Gee, Vaughn. I never thought I'd hear you be so…_nice_." She said, a smile playing upon her lips once more.

"Yeah, yeah, just hand over the riceball." Vaughn said, quickly diverting the topic of conversation from his supposed niceness. He didn't want to talk about himself, he was just relieved that Chelsea had stopped crying.

Chelsea giggled and handed over the riceball. _Here it goes…_Vaughn figured, and took a big bite. Chelsea studied him carefully, waiting for a reaction.

What Vaughn had expected was something mediocre. What Vaughn got was something warm, steaming, and absolutely delicious.

"C-Chelsea…" Vaughn stuttered at a loss for words. "How did you? Why did you?"

"I told you Vaughn, I made it just for you! I worked on it all day long, in order to get it just right." She smiled. "So, tell me what you think!"

Vaughn's face heated up a bit as he remembered; _she made it just for him._

"It's…great." he told her with complete sincerity. He couldn't help himself, the ends of his lips began reaching upwards until the look on his face resembled something close to a small smile.

Chelsea was overjoyed.

"Eeeeeeeek!" she squealed. "You did it! You smiled! I made you smile!" she was bouncing up and down and spinning in circles.

"Chelsea, calm down, it…it really isn't that big of a deal—"

"Are you _kidding_ me? Of course it's a big deal! This is what I've been waiting three seasons for! Vaughn, I'll give you rice balls everyday from now on! So you'll_ always_ be smiling." She told him, her face sporting a big, toothy grin.

"Don't get too far ahead of yourself." Vaughn said, back to his normal state of composed seriousness and few words. "This was only a one time thing." Chelsea looked at him smugly, as if she knew something that he didn't.

"Oh, don't give me that, Vaughn." She laughed. "I know that your whole 'tough guy' persona is just an act." she pointed to the partially eaten riceball in his hands, then pointed at him.

"You're just like this riceball," Chelsea said. "A little lumpy on the outside, but warm and soft on the inside."

* * *

><p><strong>And that was my first oneshot! I hope that you liked it, OMGuava. This is the first time I've written ChelseaVaughn; it was actually quite enjoyable :). I've already started brainstorming for the other requests, so expect a new one to be posted every few days! And please do review this chapter and tell me what you think; although I want requests, I want real reviews too :D. Also, if more people begin requesting words, I might not get to all of them right away. So please don't fret if you don't see your word oneshot posted super fast, I'm only human xD. But I'll do my best to get to every request eventually, I promise. See you in a few days!**


	3. Painting

_Painting_

"_Dad_!" Gill's call echoed loudly throughout the Hamilton household. "Dad! Where are you?" The platinum-blonde haired boy sighed deeply in exasperation. It was always a chore, finding his father. Hamilton liked to wander, and he didn't have any 'favorite spots' to be spoken of. He could've been anywhere in Castanet for all his son knew!

As Gill approached one of the many long corridors in his home, he was greeted by a sound other than silence. Chewing.

"Dad? You in there?" Gill asked. He turned the knob of the door at the end of the corridor, and was greeted by a plump and happy Hamilton sitting contentedly on a sofa and eating chocolate chip cookies.

"Hello, son!" Hamilton said, despite the fact that his mouth was full. Gill rolled his eyes at his father's lack of etiquette. _You'd think the mayor would at least practice proper manners when eating! _He thought. But his father was hopeless when it came to manners, and pretty much everything else that Gill thought was important to a mayor's image. But the public loved Hamilton and respected him all the same, so he figured that his manners mustn't matter that much. There were more important things to do anyway, more important cookies to eat…

"Dad, I have a request for you." Gill spoke formally. He wasn't extremely close to his father, so he'd never quite gotten rid of formalities when talking to him. "I want a portrait painted of me."

Hamilton looked at him, an eyebrow raised. He then started laughing hysterically, spraying cookie crumbs all over the place in the process. "What on Earth do you need a portrait for, Gill?" he asked. "Portraits are for dead people!"

"Precisely why I think I should have one," Gill said. "I want my descendants and the future mayors to remember me long after I've gone, to always be able to see my face immortalized in this very house!" Gill was very keen on the prospect of becoming mayor; he had been since he was a small boy. And what was the point of being mayor, he thought, if nobody remembered you after your job was done? No portrait, no legacy. That was why Gill wanted to have his portrait done as soon as possible. That way, even if he suddenly died in some freak accident, people would always remember him as either an esteemed mayor or an esteemed mayor to be.

"Alright, if you say so." Hamilton said. He still did not quite understand his son's logic on the subject, but decisively didn't question him. Hamilton found that, the less he questioned Gill, the better they got along. "Who should I get to paint it for you?"

"There are no painters in the valley…" Gill thought.

"How about Maya?" Hamilton asked. _Who's Maya? _Gill had to rack his brain for a moment, but the images soon came to him. _Golden blonde hair, blue eyes, cute pink dress…_

"No, that won't do." Gill decided.

"What? Why not? She's a baker! She decorates cakes! It's similar enough to painting, isn't it?" Hamilton pushed, suddenly set on Maya doing his son's portrait. He didn't know her all that well, but he _did_ know that she liked to eat. And anyone that liked to eat was a friend of Hamilton's.

"But father, do you really think I can trust such a cutesy girl with such an important job?" Gill asked, but Hamilton wasn't listening. He was leaning out the window, and calling down to the streets below.

"Maya! Maya, is that you?" he shouted, to which a tiny 'Yes?' responded. "Could you come up here for a moment? Gilligan's got a job for you!"

Gill rolled his eyes at his father's use of his whole name. It made him sound so old fashioned, so snobby. He didn't like it.

A few moments later, and Gill could hear a pair of feet clomping up the stairs to the doorway of the house. _Well, _he thought, _there's no going back now, is there? Let's just hope that the waitress girl can paint…_

There was a knock on the door. "Gill, will you get that?" Hamilton asked, having returned to the couch and his cookies. It was just like his father, to be very stubborn and affirmative about a decision (aka, hiring Maya to paint Gill's portrait), and then become very lazy about actually dealing with the situation (aka, having Gill answer the door for Maya, even though he was the one who called her over in the first place). Gill was irritated at his father's laziness, but, not wanting to keep the poor girl wondering why she'd been summoned for too long, he sighed in defeat and went to open the door.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Mayor Hamilton, I just—" Maya stopped as she realized that who she was talking to was not the chubby, friendly mayor, but rather his handsome son.

Looking at Gill brought back memories of Renee's slumber party a few days previous. His hair had been a topic of discussion; _"Is it real?" "Did he dye it?" "How does he get it to look so perfect every day?"_ His piercing blue stare had also come up, as they were known to make girls swoon. It was odd for Maya to be looking at the boy whom she'd gossiped about with her friends so recently. She had never seen the mayor's son in person, and was surprised to find that he was just as good looking, if not even more so, than her friends had said.

The blonde waitress immediately became flustered. "I…uh, hi Gill! I was, um…did Mayor Hamilton…?"

"Yes, he did call you up." Gill cut her off, saving her the trouble. He was surprised by the way the young girl looked up close as she stood on his doorstep. From afar, she'd resembled a doll, what with the two little braids sticking out of her hair, and the poofy pink dress. But up close, he found that she had some pretty nice features. The way her round eyes looked up at him in wonder, the way her nose was like a button, and the way her cheek bones curved just so…

He didn't think that he would mind getting painted by this girl.

"So…what did he call me for?" Maya continued, still slightly intimidated by the boy in front of her.

"Actually, I'm the one that needs your help," Gill said, although he hated admitting that he needed other people's help to do anything. "I want you to paint a portrait of me, so that future generations of mayors will be able to see it and remember my rule." He explained. "That doesn't sound too hard, does it?"

Maya looked at him, very confused. "Well, I guess not. But why me?"

Gill sighed, "My father was set on asking you; he thinks that you'll be able to paint because you cook. It was all his idea. You wouldn't have been my first choice, believe me." Maya was stung by his words, but she tried her best to shake it off. She had heard that Gill wasn't necessarily the friendliest of people, so she assumed that she shouldn't take his insult personally..._But how am I supposed to work with someone who doesn't want to be worked with? _she thought.

"Alright. Now that that's settled, follow me." Gill beckoned the waitress forward and into the Hamilton household. Maya followed, and resolved from that point on to be tough and strong when it came to the mayor's son. _I won't let him push me around! I'm the one that's helping him, after all,_ she figured. Even so, she couldn't help but feel like, although she was the one providing the service, Gill was still completely and utterly in charge of the situation.

Gill led Maya into a big parlor room, complete with large windows, an exotic oriental rug, royal blue walls, and a golden chandelier to top it all off.

"Wow…" Maya muttered as she tried to take it all in.

Gill shrugged. "Eh, it isn't that great, honestly. There are nicer rooms." Grabbing her arm in order to snap Maya out of her charmed daze, he showed her to an empty canvas in the center of the room.

"Here's what you'll be painting on." He told her. "There's a palette and paints on the table next to it."

"So…what exactly am I supposed to do?" she asked, working hard to show only hints of her nervousness. She had been initially thrown off by the fanciness of the room, and was now being launched straight into whatever it was that Gill, a boy that she had only heard stories and seen glimpses of until about five minutes ago, wanted her to do. To say that the circumstance was a bit overwhelming for Maya would be an understatement.

Gill rolled his eyes, it was all so simple! "I sit here," he said, gesturing to a big red armchair across the room from the canvas, "and you paint me. _Well."_ Gill emphasized the word; he did not, under any circumstances, want the future mayors to look at his portrait and see anything less than perfection. Maya nodded affirmatively, trying to hold her ground as a confident girl against the picky, unenthused boy standing in front of her.

"Okay. I've got it." she said, more to herself than Gill. He turned, walked to the red armchair, and sat in what he thought of as a mayorly pose. Everything was in place. Maya took a deep breath, and got to work.

The room was mostly silent as Maya concentrated on what she was doing. Gill didn't mind though, he found it interesting enough to just sit and observe her. Her brush strokes were careful, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she focused on the canvas in front of her. Sometimes, those eyes would flick to him before going back to the canvas. When they did, Gill began to feel momentarily self-conscious; as if the blonde waitress was staring into his very soul.

For Maya, the silence as she painted the mayor's son was beginning to get a bit uncomfortable.

"So…" she started, looking for conversation. "Is your hair artificial?"

"What?" Gill looked at her incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

"Eh, nothing! I was just…I mean, it's such an odd color, so I was wondering if you may have dyed it…" she explained, once again intimidated by the fact that she barely knew the boy who she was painting.

"No, it's not dyed. Platinum-blonde runs in my family…my father had it too before he went grey. I suppose I can see why you thought it might be fake; it _is_ a rather odd color." He laughed, earning a smile from Maya.

"...Why are you smiling all of a sudden?" Gill asked her after, back to his usual seriousness.

"Oh, it's just, you seemed so uptight. I didn't know that you could laugh!" Maya grinned, causing Gill's cheeks to flush pink.

"I-it's not that big of a deal, is it?" he asked, cursing at himself for his lack of composure just then. He hated seeming even the slightest bit vulnerable. _Vulnerable people are the type of people that are taken advantage of, the type that are walked all over…_he reminded himself. But he thought of the waitress, thought of her seemingly sunny disposition. Even though he had only just really met Maya, she didn't _seem_ like the type to take advantage.

"It _is_ a big deal!" Maya said, taking her eyes briefly away from the canvas to look at him. "When you smile, people tend to like you more. They tend to trust you. Don't you want the Castanetians to trust you once you're mayor, Gill?" she asked good naturedly.

There was silence as he considered his answer. He had always gone with the saying, 'it is better to be feared than loved'…but now that he was here, listening to Maya telling him otherwise, he wasn't as sure about it.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. That was another thing Gill hated, not knowing. Quite truthfully, he feared the unknown more than most anything else.

_Huh. Guess today is the day that I come to terms with a lot of the things that I hate. _Gill mused…_I don't like it._ And the room was submerged in silence once more.

Maya painted thoughtfully and slowly, making sure that every last brushstroke was used to the best of its ability. This was the first time that she had ever painted anything professionally; most often her painting was just done at the easel in her room. She couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't gone into painting. _I'm sure as hell a lot better at it than I am at cooking, _she thought, remembering the disapproving face that Chase always gave her whenever she botched something up.

Maya's brushstrokes came to a stop as she reached a roadblock. _The hair._ She couldn't paint Gill's hair as it was on his head at that moment, it simply didn't look right! And Maya, being admittedly somewhat of a painter perfectionist, needed to fix it.

Gill could see the scene playing out as if it were really happening. _Maya walking towards me…looking at me intensely…She removes her braids, pins me down, puckers her lips, and then…_

The mayor's son snapped out of his daydreaming when he noticed the waitress standing up and walking towards him, a look of determination flashing in her blue eyes.

"W-what in Goddess' name are you doing?" he asked, thoughts of his daydream coming to mind. He leaned back slightly in his seat as she continued to approach him undeterred.

"Your hair, I need to fix it." She explained. "Why are you getting all worked up about it? It's for your painting, you know."

"…It's nothing." Gill assured her. _Just thought you were going to come over here and kiss me passionately, is all. _There was a third thing; hated himself for his thoughts. Why was he daydreaming about Maya?…_Curse teenage boy hormones._

Maya, still confused but decidedly not asking any more questions, came up to Gill and began adjusting his hair.

"I just need to fix this strand here, and this one there…" she muttered. Gill, who was blushing an uncharacteristic shade of dark red, couldn't form any coherent words as Maya leaned over him to get to his hair. His eyes flicked in all directions, not knowing where to look. There were her eyes, her face, her hair, and _those…They're right in front of me! Just asking to be touched! _

Maya, noticing Gill's discomfort, started blushing a bit herself. "I-I'll be done in a moment." she said, hurriedly finishing up and stepping away from the mayor's son. Observing her work, she smiled.

"It's perfect!" she squealed happily. "_Much _better. You wouldn't want to have messy hair in your portrait, would you Gill?"

"N-no. No I wouldn't." he said, sighing in relief that the girl had removed herself from him and returned to her canvas. What baffled him was why he was getting so worked up about everything! _It's a painting, _he reminded himself, _just a painting! And Maya's just a girl…_But as he thought it, he knew that it might not be wholly true. He had had several 'just-a-girl's after him before, most recently Luna, but he had always felt indifferent towards them. _If they want to get all wound up over me,_ he thought,_ it's their problem. I've got more important things to do._ But what was he to do now that he was the one getting wound up over someone? The whole situation seemed impossible; Gill, the composed, pompous, established mayor's son had become completely thrown off ease ever since the waitress had started painting his portrait.

Maya, who was happy to go back to painting Gill now that his hair was in place, was also feeling perplexed by the situation at hand. _Why has Gill seemed so nervous this whole time? Why has his mood been fluctuating so much? _The Gill that she was seeing was much different than the Gill that had been described to her by the other girls. The boy hadn't seemed cold or snobby at all since she'd begun painting. Rather he was ambitious, a little insecure, and, on the inside, a _huge _softie.

_The girls also described him as unruffled, unmovable…_Maya remembered, but that hadn't been the case either. Quite to the contrary, Gill had appeared to be very easily ruffled up whenever Maya did or said something…

The two sat mostly in tension filled silence, exchanging a few words here and there, until about an hour later when the painting was complete.

"Finally, it's all done!" Maya exclaimed, as Gill got up from the red armchair he'd been sitting in. "Come on, see how it turned out."

Gill couldn't believe his eyes. For someone who couldn't cook, Maya was one heck of a painter. The boy in the armchair in the painting looked exactly like him! She'd captured all of his best features, all of the things that made Gill who he was, and put them onto the canvas.

"My descendants will love it…" he muttered in amazement as he took Maya's work in. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Maya brightened. "It was my pleasure," she said. "Although I didn't expect to be painting for anyone today, I'm glad I could help!"

"You really should go professional, you know. You're a much better painter than you are a cook." He said honestly, only momentarily worried that he may've insulted the waitress.

Maya read the worry in his face and laughed. "It's fine! I know it's true; I'm pretty much hopeless as a cook. But I don't think I'd want painting to become my work. It'd take all the fun out of it."

"Fair enough, but you're still very talented."

"Thanks, Gill." She said, surprised at his complimenting her.

"You're welcome…Maya." he replied quietly.

Following his words was an awkward silence, as the two young adults shifted restlessly on their feet, waiting for the other to make a move to do something.

After a few seconds, Maya couldn't take it anymore. She boldly stuck out a hand. "It was nice getting to know you, Gill. I'm so glad that I was able to paint—" she was inexplicably silenced by a sudden pressure against her lips.

Gill had taken the hand she held out, pulled her quickly toward him, and kissed her.

When he pulled back, Maya was shocked. It had been a quick kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. She tried to get his gaze to meet hers, to hopefully glean some explanation for what had just happened. But Gill's eyes refused, as they seemed to find something extremely interesting about the color of the carpet.

"H-hey Maya?" he stuttered, not removing his eyes from the carpet. "F-first of all, I don't usually g-get this n-nervous…" he silently cursed himself for the stutter he'd acquired. He took a deep breath before continuing, "Please, hear me out. That, what just happened…it was i-impulse, more than anything…and I…" Maya put a silencing finger to his mouth, and beamed at him.

"How does Wednesday at the Ocarina Inn for pizza sound, Gill?" she asked.

Gill smiled a relieved smile in return. He took a deep breath to compose himself before replying.

"Wednesday sounds great."

* * *

><p><strong>There's oneshot number two! This is for the anonymous EPIC; I do hope you liked it! I've never written either Gill or Maya before, so I'd like to know what you all think about the way I portrayed them. This chapter was a fair deal longer than my first; I have a feeling that length is going to vary greatly depending on how much I have to say xD. Next up is 'Green', which I've already started on. Also, please review and tell me what you think of this chapter :). Have a lovely day!<strong>

**IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTE: **** I know that my goal in writing these is to try and expand my writing horizons by taking requests and challenges (as well as providing entertaining oneshots for you all :D). But, unfortunately, I've realized that there are a few couples that I cannot write for, simply because I _dislike_ them as couples, and I'm not good at writing if I don't like what I'm writing about. So, for the purpose of not getting any hopes up, I have created a couple no-no list of the few couples that I will not write about in this story:**

**Couple no-no List**

**Gray and Claire**

**Luke and Selena**

**Chelsea and Pierre**

**See? That's a nice short list! So I'm not being too stingy ;). Also, keep in mind that although I refuse to write about these people as couples, it doesn't mean that I won't write about them as friends, or as parts of different couples (for example, I already have a oneshot for this collection featuring Gray underway, it's just not about him and Claire as a couple). Thanks for understanding!**


	4. Green

_Green_

Jill's favorite color was green.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact reason as to why she liked it so much, but her interest in green as a color had never wavered. She had always thought of green as the color of life, the color of new beginnings. Like when she first moved to Forget-Me-Not Valley to take over her late father's farm; the first thing she'd noticed about the valley were its big, beautiful, green trees that seemed to reach all the way up to the sky.

_Skye. _Yes, green was also the color of Skye's eyes. Green was the reason that she'd first fallen in love with him.

* * *

><p>When Jill first met Skye, the valley hadn't been green. It was a cool, late autumn night and she had been taking one of her many night walks by the Goddess pond, trying to sort out her thoughts. She wasn't alone.<p>

"What's a pretty young lady like you doing out in the cold at this time of night?" Jill heard a man's voice and stopped in her tracks. She turned around but couldn't seem to find anyone amongst the trees and shadows.

"I don't know who you are or what you're doing…" she spoke slowly after a few moments. "But I'd run away now, if I were you. I have a…um…a watering can! Yes, that's it! I have a watering can, and I'm not afraid to use it!" She drew the old can from her rucksack, holding it in front of her in what she hoped was a threatening stance.

"A watering can? That's all you've got?" the voice chuckled. Oddly enough, it seemed to be coming from somewhere closer than the last time…

Before Jill had time to react, two powerful hands whirled her around. The watering can clattered to the ground as she found herself face to face with a handsome stranger.

If she had first noticed the long, silvery hair, Jill might have made a mad dash away under the assumption that she was being attacked by somebody several years her senior. If she had first noticed the leopard print shirt she probably wouldn't have run away, rather she might have started questioning the sexual preferences of the man before her. But Jill didn't notice any of that; the only thing that she noticed was his eyes.

The man's eyes were a sparkling shade of emerald green. They appeared to be almost endlessly deep; filled with thoughts and feelings that Jill couldn't possibly fathom. Despite their vastness, however, the eyes were also very soft looking, as if the farm girl could curl up inside of them and go to sleep. Above all, they were absolutely beautiful.

"W-who are y-you?" Jill stuttered, untrue to her usual braveness. Against her will, her heart began beating rapidly. No matter how hard she tried, she could not tear away from the green eyes.

Those eyes began to dance with dark amusement as a smirk crossed the face of their owner. "I can't help but notice the way you're looking into my eyes, gorgeous. Entranced?"

Jill wanted to tell him that yes, she was entranced. She felt as though if she were to do nothing but stare into their green depths for all eternity, she'd be perfectly at peace. But she didn't say any of this. Instead, she managed finally to pull herself away from the greenness, and change the look on her face from one of awe (which the man seemed to have been relishing), to one of skepticism.

"You didn't answer my question. Who are you?" Jill said, stepping out from under the man's grip on her shoulders and crossing her arms stubbornly over her chest. Just because the color and depth of the man's eyes was exceptional didn't mean she was going to be messed around with.

The man stepped back in mock surprise. "Well, well. It appears we have a spunky one here!" he said, still smirking. "I go by many names; Prince of the Stars, the Phantom Thief, wooer of ladies, charmer of damsels…But you can call me Skye." he said with a wink that caused Jill's heart to falter against her will.

"I-I'm Jill." she managed, quietly hating herself for reacquiring a stutter. Skye seemed to take it as an opportunity to hone in.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful young lady." he said, moving his face uncomfortably close to the aforementioned young lady. What Jill really wanted to do at that moment was take advantage of his uncalled for closeness and kick the phantom thief right where it hurts. But she found that, to her dismay, her feet refused to move. She could only stand there, transfixed by his green gaze.

"You know," Skye spoke again, after a prolonged silence on Jill's part. "I wasn't planning on stealing anything tonight. But I might have to change those plans, considering the lovely maiden standing in front of me…" the farm girl was suddenly snapped out of her daze as she was easily lifted up and off her feet and thrown across Skye's back.

"What the—? Put me down, you handsome creep!" Jill shouted, pounding her fists against his back in protest.

Skye raised a silver eyebrow. "_Handsome _creep? Hmm, I suppose I could get used to that." he said.

"…You're not going to hurt me or anything, right?" Jill asked cautiously. The Phantom thief just laughed at her.

"What, you think I'm going to rape you or something? What kind of man do you take me for?" he asked, and then laughed again. The suspended farm girl was now mentally smacked herself for voicing such a bizarre thought. Her captor may have been a charmer, but her certainly didn't seem like a real threat. "Besides," he continued, "I wouldn't want you to take out your watering can on me. Whatever would I do then?" Jill could practically sense the amusement he wore on his face.

"Ha ha ha, very funny." She rolled her eyes, attempting to salvage what little dignity she could after making such an absurd accusation of him earlier on. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

"Nope." He replied simply.

"What? Why?" she demanded a reason.

"Because it's a secret." He said, revealing absolutely nothing. Jill groaned loudly at him in annoyance.

"What thinks that you have the right to steal me as though I were an object, anyway?" she asked, huffily.

"I'm not stealing you as though you were an object. I'm stealing you as though you were an unusual maiden that I simply must spend some more time with." he said with certainty. Jill listened for hints of mockery and joking in his tone, but found nothing. It seemed that the green eyed wonder was being sincere…

Not that Jill believed it for even a second. "Well, isn't that flattering?" she retorted sarcastically.

"No. That wasn't flattering. What _is_ flattering, however, is the lovely view of your butt that I have from this angle, my dear." Skye said, causing her cheeks to turn bright red. The thief smirked broadly, knowing he'd succeeded in getting to the girl tossed over his shoulder. Jill's eyes narrowed in determination; she wouldn't allow herself to be embarrassed again so easily.

"I'm glad you think so. It just so happens that I'm getting a pretty swell view of _your_ rear end as well." She said, slapping the rear in question with a free hand. Skye, caught completely off guard, stiffened in surprise and stopped walking. Jill had to try very hard not to crack up laughing at his reaction.

"…Well played, farm girl," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You certainly are something else." He then hoisted the girl farther up on his shoulder, so as not to have her go tumbling to the ground, and the unlikely pair continued on.

They walked silence for awhile after that; Skye ambling along slowly, and Jill just waiting, unable to do anything. Finally, she'd had enough.

"Why can't you put me down now?" she asked.

"Because you might run away. And we're almost at our destination." He said simply.

"But can't I walk next to you the rest of the way?" Jill pleaded. She knew that she'd be much more comfortable on the ground. And she'd also get to see those green eyes again…_No! Don't think about the eyes!_

"Sorry, no can do." Skye told her. Jill, figuring complaining wouldn't get her anywhere, just grumbled in response, and left it at that.

Fortunately for the farm girl, who was getting annoyed at the fact that the blood was beginning to rush to her head, the pair arrived at their destination a few minutes later.

"Is this a…beach?" she asked the phantom thief once she was finally down on the ground again.

"Yes. It's my favorite place to think." He said, and turned to her.

"Come on, we're going to the water." He said, looking at her expectantly.

"And what if I don't want to go to the water? What if I want to go home and go to bed?"

At her question, Skye smirked. "Well, Jill, I'm not really giving you the option. You're mine for the night." He then took her by the hand and began walking her along. His cold touch sent chills up through her arm, causing her head to spin. Why was she reacting like this? Jill was never one so easily captivated by the opposite sex; she considered herself what other girls in the village might refer to as 'high maintenance'. So why was she so easily enthralled by the phantom thief? Why did she find him so darn fascinating when she had only just met him? It couldn't have been his cheesy lines, she was sure of that.

Skye sat down on a dock, and patted the space next to him in invitation. Jill accepted, and sat down warily, her guard up in case he tried anything. But he didn't try anything, he just stared out at the water, green eyes unfocused.

Finally, Jill couldn't take the quiet anymore. "Why do you steal things?" she blurted out suddenly, and instantly regretted it. The question had been on the tip of her tongue the entire night, but she'd never planned on actually voicing it!

Skye looked at her for a moment, considering her. " Figures that you'd ask that of all things. It's a bit of a...touchy subject, you could say. Quite the long story, really." he explained vaguely.

But Jill wasn't satisfied. "C'mon, phantom thief, I've got all night! You might as well tell me." she said, flashing him a grin. She found herself feeling much more comfortable now that she was in the position of power.

Skye chuckled nervously in response, "You sure are stubborn. I suppose I do owe you_ something_, after whisking you away to this place. But I have to warn you; my story's kind of a downer."

"You've got my full attention." She told him, her voice warm and sincere. Skye, it appeared, wasn't too keen on sharing his story with just anyone. But with the way that Jill was talking to him, the way she was looking eagerly at him, he felt…okay. For the first time, he felt as though he could tell someone absolutely everything.

Skye sat for a moment, Jill waiting patiently beside him. He then took a big breath, and the words began to flow. "When I was little, we lived…well, we were pretty much in the sticks. My dad lost his job pretty early on. He spent most of his time looking for another, but nobody would hire him. So he started drinking." He stopped for a moment, green eyes turning notably somber before continuing.

"He and mom were always fighting; mom yelling at dad to stop drinking, dad yelling at mom that she didn't understand. I tried to stop them; I thought that it was all my fault that they fought." Jill looked upon the phantom thief in horror as he said this. She could picture the scene; a faceless, silver haired man yelling drunkenly at a woman standing nearby, with a littler version of Skye stepping between them, shouting for them to stop as his green eyes became edged with red puffiness.

Skye must've noticed the look that Jill was giving him, because his eyes lost their nostalgic look and his lips curved into a smirk.

"Are you pitying me?" he asked, laughing. But his laugh wasn't hearty as it had been earlier; there was now a hollowness to it. "Don't waste your time. What's done is done. So if you could hear me out without getting a look on your face like you just saw someone kick a puppy, then that would be appreciated." Jill was slightly taken aback by his request of her, but she did her best to put on a straight face.

"That's better." He said, nodding approvingly. "Anyways, you get the general setup; drunken father, angry mother, little boy who thinks he's the problem. Of course, our family's dysfunctional state wasn't a secret; the social workers came by every now and then to check in on things. At first, their visits were quick. But as the situation got worse, their visits became longer and more frequent. They would often pull me aside, and ask me what _I_ thought of the circumstance, how _I_ was dealing with it. I played stubborn and didn't answer their questions, which really bugged the hell out of them." He explained, smiling a bit at the thought.

"Unfortunately, my refusal to talk gave them more time to talk themselves. And, inevitably, there came a day where they began talking to me about foster families. I _knew_ that I couldn't go with a foster family. But I couldn't stay with my parents either. I was only fifteen at the time, but I was smart; I knew that, if I told them that I wanted to stay, they wouldn't stand for it. Things would get legal and messy. My parents could've ended up in jail. I didn't want any of that...So I walked."

"You walked? What do you mean, _walked_?" Jill asked, not quite believing what she thought she was hearing.

"I mean like I said. I ran out of the room, packed a bag, and ran away that night. The first few days were great; I just travelled around, feeling liberated from my parent's constant bickering and the social workers' nagging. I was able to do whatever I wanted, when I wanted, with nobody to tell me otherwise."

"But reality began to dawn on me; I couldn't go on like I was. I needed money if I was going to survive. It was then that I started stealing."

"Didn't you ever worry about getting caught?" Jill wondered, straining to keep her tone measured.

"No, I didn't. Like I said, I wasn't an idiot; I knew how to sneak around, and how to make my way. Eventually, stealing became a way of life. It's my job, my profession. You farm, I steal."

"Not to say that I didn't think about my parents every now and again. Even though they gave me what might've been the crappiest childhood possible, I still missed them a little bit. They _were_ my parents, after all. So, once I turned eighteen, I decided to go back home. I figured that, as I was officially a legal adult, that maybe I could support the three of us, and maybe help them sort themselves out if they hadn't already done so."

"But when I got home...The house was abandoned. Ransacked. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years." he explained, his eyes downcast, his voice careful. Jill longed to reach out to him, to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him that he didn't have to finish his story if he didn't want to. But she knew it wouldn't do any good; Skye would continue regardless of what she said or did.

"I left again, never looking back. I knew then that there was no way that I could make an 'honest' life for myself. Without my parents, stealing was all I knew."

"Since then, I've been travelling and stealing and charming all over. And now here I am, sitting on this dock, telling the story of my own worthlessness to a pretty girl that I've only just met. Man, I really _am _pathetic." He said, laughing hollowly again.

" Don't say things like that!" Jill shouted, momentarily hating the thief for demeaning himself. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over things that happened so long ago. And you're most certainly not pathetic!"

Skye quirked an eyebrow curiously at her exclamation. "You think so? Ha! _I'm _the reason all of it happened. I was a _mistake_. My parents didn't want to have me; they were screwed up enough without a kid to look after. _I _was the reason my dad needed to find a job so badly, the reason he started drinking. _I_ was the cause of their fighting._ I_ was the reason that the social workers kept coming back. _My_ running away was probably the reason that they left, and _I _didn't bother coming back until four years later, by which point they were long gone. Do you still think I'm not pathetic, farm girl?"

Jill didn't know what to say. "Skye, I…I'm so sorry. It's just that it's—"

"I know what it is, Jill!" Skye lashed out, causing her to flinch back in surprise at his sudden anger. Green eyes became raging flames. "Do you think I don't? I lived it! I breathed it! I still do! And if you can't wrap your head around it, then I...I..." Skye's tirade faltered as he noticed the look on Jill's face. She looked fearful, a look that, earlier on in the night, he never would have been able to picture on the brave, sarcastic, confident farmer. He took a breath, let his muscles relax, and managed a small smile.

"You don't have to be sorry. _I'm _the one that should be sorry; I told you my story and then blew up at you for trying to make me feel better." He told her, tucking a stray brown hair behind her ear as he did so.

"It's not too late for you, you know." Jill said, almost in a whisper.

"What exactly do you mean? What can I do with myself, a dirty thief?" Skye asked, leaning slightly closer to the farmer.

"It's not too late for you to change. You don't have to steal anymore, if you don't want to. You can put what happened behind you. Get a job, buy a house, settle down with some girl…" only after she said this did she realize the implications that might come along with it. But no sooner had she turned her head away than a smooth hand cupped her chin and guided it back to meet a green gaze. Skye's eyes bore into hers, blazing with a new emotion. It wasn't the mischief, or the sorrow, or the anger, it was more like…_desire_.

Seconds after she realized what the look in his eyes might've meant, Jill found her lips brushing against those belonging to the Phantom thief.

He kissed her gently at first, but slowly began getting more forceful. Jill could feel her heart practically exploding inside her chest. She ran her fingers through soft, silvery hair, and felt his hands running their way through her own brown locks.

Skye had kissed a number of women throughout his thieving career. There had been Muffy, Celia, Flora, Nami, Claire, Lumina, and the list went on and on. But none of them kissed like Jill did. With most of his maidens, kissing was a simple pleasure, a way to pass the time. But with Jill, it was different. Skye felt wonder, passion, heat...what did the romance novels call it? Oh, yes.

With Jill, Skye felt sparks.

Reluctantly, the thief and the farm girl both pulled away, and Jill was once again faced with the mesmerizing green eyes.

"You're right, Jill. Maybe I can try to figure things out. I could start my own curry business..." Skye thought aloud, then shook his head disbelief. "God, Jill, I don't believe you. You really are something else." He stood up, and beckoned for Jill to do so as well.  
>" You're the first person I've ever told that story to, you know!"<p>

"Really? Well, I'm honored." She laughed, following suit.

"I'm also surprised that, throughout all of my storytelling, you didn't once ask me why I chose this beach to come to." he said.

"Alright, I guess I'll bite then. Why did you choose this beach to come to?" Jill asked.

"This beach was where my parents had their first kiss." He told her, winking playfully.

"Skye! Don't tell me you lured me out here just so you could kiss me!" Jill shouted, feigning anger but smiling all the same.

He shrugged. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Maybe you'll never know." He laughed. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

"Whoa, you're actually going to let me _walk_? I don't have to be carried over your shoulder this time?"

"No, I think I can let you walk by yourself now." he said, offering a hand, which Jill then took. The two left the beach, and walked hand in hand all the way home.

* * *

><p><em>That was a wonderful night, <em>Jill remembered with a sigh. From that point on, the pair of them had started meeting regularly. Subsequently, thievery in the valley had grown less frequent, and the phantom thief became more of a legend than anything else. After about a year of late night rendezvous', Jill had proposed to Skye with a blue feather, which he'd happily accepted. She recalled that their marriage ceremony was the first time Skye had gone into the valley in the daylight; they had both been a bit nervous about that. Fortunately, rumors of the phantom thief had been so long gone, that nobody suspected the silver haired man that stood by Jill at the altar; they'd all assumed he was a city boy, and did no further digging. Skye had then proceeded to open up a curry shop near the bar in the center of town, which had quickly become very popular with the villagers.

"Jill?" a male voice brought Jill back to reality as she turned to meet bright green eyes and a trademark smirk.

"Staring off into the distance, eh? What were you thinking about?" Skye asked, walking over and pulling her up from her seat at their kitchen table.

"Oh, just about that first night."

"I sure did dump a load of angst on you that night, didn't I?" Skye mused, putting his hands around her hips and pulling her close.

"You did. At the beginning of that night, I never would've pegged you as someone to show that much emotion!"

"Well, I am a man of many mysteries…" he trailed off, looking at his wife thoughtfully. Before that night, Skye wouldn't have pegged himself as one to express that much emotion either. He also wouldn't have pegged himself as one to settle down, but he had certainly been wrong about that.

"Do you know what really made me fall for you that night?" Jill asked, moving her face closer to his, so that their noses were almost touching.

"Actually, I don't. You seemed to be quite the resilient girl, not one to be easily charmed..." he thought back to Jill's initial stubbornness and knew that this was true.

"It was your eyes." she told him. "They were absolutely mesmerizing. Still are." To her happiness, Jill watched those eyes light up at her words.

"I _knew_ I saw you looking at my eyes that night!"

"You most certainly did! No matter how _horrible _your outfit was, or how _terrible _your pick-up lines were, I couldn't resist the eyes."

"What? You don't like leopard print?" he joked.

"No, it's not my personal favorite." She laughed. "But your eyes made up for it. Green _is_ my favorite color, you know." She admitted, smiling.

"And amethyst is mine." He told her, closing the gap between their lips in one swift movement.

* * *

><p><strong>Third oneshot, completed! Wow, I haven't updated <em>anything<em> since school started. And I'm sorry to say, fanfictioners, but it doesn't seem like that'll be changing for awhile; homework is really picking up, and extracurriculars have started up as well (On a happy side note: our school musical just got cast, and I got the part that I wanted! WOOHOO :D!). Anyway, please forgive me if my work is sporadic, and if I end up paying more attention to some stories than others. I'll continue to do my best regardless, I promise!**

**Back to this story, what did you think? It certainly turned out to be one heck of a long oneshot xD. Early on during the summer, I'd planned on writing a Skye and Jill story, but never really got around to it, so I suppose that this makes up for it ;). Critique would be welcomed, as I've never written Skye before (was he OOC at all?). Anyhow, I hope you all enjoyed this, as I put lots of work into it :). The next oneshot I'll be working on is for the word 'cat', and I've decided that it will center around Gale and Molly. So you have that to look forward to :D.**

**ALSO, an important note! While I'm perfectly fine with many of these oneshots turning out to be romance stories between a pairing, I'd love to mix it up with some friendship/rivalry/anything but romance oneshots too! Unfortunately, many requests of yours don't leave me much room for that x). So please remember that these stories don't HAVE to be romantic!**

**Thank you all very, very much for taking time to read this. I hope you have a lovely day, and I'll try and update something soon!**


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